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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422422">In the Eye of the Beholder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liron_aria/pseuds/Liron_aria'>Liron_aria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drunk Shenanigans, F/M, Fluff, Sam Winchester's Truly Awful Taste In Shirts, Stanford Era (Supernatural), silliness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:48:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liron_aria/pseuds/Liron_aria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's aware it's a hideous shirt, okay? That's kind of the <i>point.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In the Eye of the Beholder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>'You can't make me sentimental about <a href="https://sunflowerchester.tumblr.com/post/111667087029/sunflowerchester-safiyabat-so-i-have-a-sam">that monstrosity'</a> a friend said, and I maturely responded, 'Challenge Accepted.'</p>
<p>Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, because if I did, SamJess would be the main Ship of the Show, as opposed to whatever happened last night.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam wakes to the sound of Jess’ persistent groan from the other side of the bed. He blinks to clear the cobwebs from his head and grunts in distaste when they only partially fade. Not the worst hangover he’s ever had, but he’s not going to be winning Jeopardy! this morning.</p>
<p>He turns to his side to see Jess lying on her stomach, face turned towards him, still groaning miserably into the mattress.</p>
<p>“Morning,” he greets, with a smile and a faint chuckle.</p>
<p>Jess is less than appreciative. “Nnnrghgh, God, why aren’t you hungover?”</p>
<p>Sam quirks a grin. “Because I’m not a lightweight?”</p>
<p>Jess’ groan intensifies and she tries to bury her head in the mattress, vaguely swatting in his direction. “I hate you, Winchester. Go get me some…” she trails off, flapping her arm again.</p>
<p>Sam snickers and manages to heave himself out of bed, rolling the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. Last night had been fun, a way to cut loose after finals. He doesn’t even regret it, though the memory of Brady still blares at the back of his mind, warning him from making it a habit.</p>
<p>Ugh, not what he wants to think about right now.</p>
<p>Sam returns to Jess’ side with a glass of water and seltzer tablets, setting them down on the nightstand. Jess is sitting up, having gathered all their pillows and piling them up as a backrest. She hums thankfully and reaches up to tug Sam back down to the bed beside her.</p>
<p>“Whoa - Jess, what -”</p>
<p>“Shut up, you’re warm,” Jess mumbles, cuddling into him, “God, how are you <em>real</em>?”</p>
<p>Sam chuckles, pressing his lips to her hair lightly. Jess reaches across him for the water and tablets, and Sam leans back, content to hold her and bask in the late morning - probably afternoon, by now - light filtering in through their blinds.</p>
<p>A few minutes later, Jess looks up, marginally more alert. “… Sam? Did we go shopping last night?”</p>
<p>Sam cranes his head and spots a few paper bags at the foot of their bed, amidst the rest of their clutter. “… I think we hit the thrift store down on Ellington.”</p>
<p>Dimly, he remembers a lot of giggling and fabric.</p>
<p>“The one with the clerk who’s always stoned?” Jess asks, making a noise of protest as Sam moves towards the bags.</p>
<p>“Looks like,” he replies, holding them up.</p>
<p>“Oh God,” Jess groans, collapsing back against the pillows, “What’d we buy - <em>oh my God, what is that?!</em>”</p>
<p>Sam bursts out laughing at the horrified expression on his girlfriend’s face. The shirt in his hands is… garish is a good word. It’s thin and white with faded maroon flower-diamonds and what might be celtic knotwork pretending to be more flowers. It’s like someone took the fabric of those awful tacky grandma couches and turned it into a shirt.</p>
<p>“Sam - what are - <em>no don’t put it on!”</em></p>
<p>Sam grins and pretends to preen. “How do I look?”</p>
<p>Jess bursts into laughter. “That is <em>awful, </em>take it <em>off!</em>”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Sam replies mischievously, “I kind of like it!”</p>
<p>Jess giggles. “You are never leaving the house with that on, Winchester. I forbid it!”</p>
<p>Sam waggles his eyebrows and crawls back up the bed. “Oh, you <em>forbid </em>it, do you? Guess I’ll have to change your mind.”</p>
<p>Jess snorts and swats at his face, pushing him away. “Not with your stinky morning breath, you won’t, mister.”</p>
<p>Sam pouts and sits back.</p>
<p>“Don’t you make that face at me,” Jess warns, and then shudders. “Drunk-me has horrible taste. It doesn’t even fit you properly!”</p>
<p>“I could grow into it,” Sam teases, shucking the shirt off and rummaging through the bags. He snorts and pulls out a pair of neon yellow skinny jeans. “Though I’m not sure which one of us you expected to fit into <em>these.</em>”</p>
<p>Jess shrieks and buries her head in her hands. “My <em>eyes!</em> Burn it, burn it now!”</p>
<p>Sam laughs gleefully. “Oh, now I'm <em>definitely</em> keeping these!”</p>
<p>Jess throws a pillow at his face in response.</p>
<p>Eventually, Jess manages to return most of the clothes they bought - all bright and tacky and ridiculous - to the thrift store, but Sam hides the shirt at the bottom of his bag. It never fails to get an indignant shriek and peal of helpless laughter from Jess whenever he pulls it out, and she makes a game of trying to find where he hides it so she can throw it out.</p>
<p>Sam stashes it in his duffle when he leaves to hunt with Dean, and it’s one of the only things that survives the fire. Even his engagement ring doesn’t.</p>
<p>Sam can’t look at it. He can’t throw it out, either, his fingers wrapping tight around his last connection to Jess. He thrusts it back to the bottom of his bag and resolves to forget about it.</p>
<p>Years later, he pulls it out when looking for a clean shirt and finds he’s grown into it after all. He stares at it for a long moment, caught between grief and need and faint incredulity, and then Dean’s yelling at him to hurry up and get dressed, so he throws it on.</p>
<p>As he leaves the motel room, he swears he hears Jess’ laughter on the wind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?</p>
<p>Come flail over SamJess feelings with me here: https://queen-of-carven-stone.tumblr.com/tagged/oh-take-me-back-to-the-start</p>
<p>and here: https://missedyouloveyou.tumblr.com/</p>
<p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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